


Who Killed Markiplier? Ficlet Collection

by d-ama-ien (ama_janee)



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Ficlet Collection, Lots of parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-07 12:42:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20976089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ama_janee/pseuds/d-ama-ien
Summary: A collection of ficlets written for Who Killed Markiplier's second anniversary. All cross posted from my tumblr, @d-ama-ien





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Why did you do that??” “Pure Spite.”

Mark’s mouth was gaping open, eyes wide as he stared at the shattered remains of one of his mother’s crystal wine glasses. He knew he shouldn’t have left William and Damien alone when they all had been drinking, but he thought they knew how expensive the glasses were so they would be more responsible.

“Which one of you did this?” He glares straight at William, confident that he’d be the one rowdy enough to do it, but to his surprise, it’s Damien who half raises his hand.

“Damien? Why did you do that!?”

“Pure spite,” Damien replies, voice dripping with sarcasm. William doubles over with laughter, eventually rolling off the couch with a red face and tears in his eyes. If Mark weren’t the victim of Damien’s sass, he probably would have responded the same way, but as it was, he didn’t find the response to be very amusing.

“Jeez, is one of your classes at law school on how to act like an ass? You must be passing with flying colors!” 

“I thought you’d be happy, considering I learned most of the skills from you,” Damien tosses back. Apparently, the alcohol loosened up his sense of humor; he rarely engaged in this type of banter. Will is laying on the floor, practically cackling, he’s definitely drunk.

“Awesome, you can pay me back for the help by paying me back for this glass,” Mark snaps, not having the patience to deal with drunken banter when there was a two thousand dollar glass in pieces on his floor. 

“What’s the price, two cents?” Damien is clearly holding in laughter, which Mark doesn’t understand. Damien has always been the sympathetic one, so he has no idea what has gotten into the man.

“Try two hundred thousand cents, dumbass,” William finally sits up, wiping tears off of his red cheeks.

“Enough, enough, it’s all a joke! It’s just a joke, Mark, calm down,”

“Joke or not, this glass is priceless-”

“It’s fake! Really, you think Damien would break one of your mother’s treasured wine glasses? It’s a cheap glass from the corner store,” Mark sighs with relief, but the relief is instantly replaced with annoyance at being the butt of a joke.

“That’s it, you two are forbidden from drinking any more top-shelf liquor, if this is how you’ll treat me,” Both of the other men dramatically cry out, laughing while pleading with Mark to forgive them. “Yeah, maybe you should’ve remembered who the rich friend is before being jerks,” 

They carry on like that for a few more minutes, until Mark agrees to let them drink if they clean up the broken glass. The cleanup takes far longer than necessary, but in the end, the room is free of glass shards, Mark is free of his lingering anger, and all three men are free of the confines of being sober.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “You are not immune to propaganda”

Mark watched with disdain as his brother in law sucked up to a group of guests, casually promoting himself after making a joke that leads into political talk. His wife did the same thing, calculating, adjusting her behavior to get the reaction she wanted. Everyone did it to an extent, the desire to be liked and all that, but not everyone did it with as much intent and calculation as the twins. And then, they acted like they were better because of it! “It’s for the greater good,” was a favorite of both of them, Damien usually on a large scale since his “greater good” was “the good of the city,” where Celine’s was often “for the good of our marriage.” Mark scoffed as Damien leaned in and touched someone’s arm, repeating a motion they had done to him earlier. He acted like he was above the world as if he wouldn’t fall for the same shit if someone did it to him. 

Mark continued to stew, even as he made his rounds, interacting with his guests and trying to force his annoyance out of his mind. He loved his friend, and he loved his wife, he just didn’t like them when they were in large social situations. For once, Mark almost wished that William was here, even though they had drifted apart a bit since Will joined the military, Mark felt he hadn’t appreciated how much Will did to keep Damien’s schmoozing in check.

Eventually, the party died down, dwindling to only him, Damien, Celine, and the house staff. Celine gave him a kiss on the cheek, heading to bed to give the two some “guy time.” A staff member poured two glasses of whiskey, offering one to each man before taking his leave. 

“How’d your campaigning go?” Mark asks before sipping at his drink.

“Oh, how it usually does. I’m always amazed by the lengths people will go to impress or agree with me,” Damien doesn’t sound thrilled by how people metaphorically throw themselves at him, but it’s not like he does anything to dissuade the behavior.

“They can’t help it, you’re the one good at playing to their likes,” Mark says with a snort.

“Well, politicians don’t get elected because of their pure hearts, Mark. And if people are going to be persuaded by false promises and a kind smile, then it’s on them,”

“You are not immune to propaganda,” Mark’s outburst earns a look of confusion from Damien, who feels as if Mark took Damien’s behavior from a harmless election tactic to comparing him to some dictatorship. 

“What the hell are you talking about,” 

“You! Parading around like some fancy peacock! You don’t need to be a manipulative jerk to get votes, you’re the best candidate running!”

“I must admit, I have never been so insulted and so flattered at the same time. I wish it were as simple as being the best candidate, but it isn’t. That would be like me telling you not to suck up to people because you’re already the best actor, you know that isn’t the only factor in your casting,”

And with that metaphor, Mark realizes he has been a huge ass about Damien’s situation. Fortunately, his friend is forgiving. Even more fortunate that he is drunk enough, he likely won’t remember this conversation in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: You may spank it. Once

Damien was grateful for attending a law school filled with rich kids, who drank nothing less than top-shelf liquor, even in their kegs. It made the “de-stress” parties hosted after exams all the better.

The night was raging already, well into its third hour, but Damien had just arrived after finishing his studying. He looked around as he entered the party, searching the crowd to try and find his friend, Y/N. They had sort of known each other before university, but being in the same program had led them to become good friends. They were well known for their party habits, and at this hour, should be the center of attention with their antics. Hearing chanting from the next room, he followed the sound in hopes of finding his friend.

Y/N was at the center of a circle of other students, all loudly chanting “chug, chug, chug” as Damien’s friend drank from a comically oversized stein. Damien sighed, knowing he would be the one who would be helping his friend through their hangover tomorrow. He mixed himself a drink of his own as he waited for his friend to succeed in their task, knowing that interrupting them while they were “in the zone” was never well-received. Loud cheering from the circle told Damien that his friend had finished the drink, so he immediately set to pushing through the crowds to grab their attention before anyone else could talk them into a new drinking-related task.

“Damien!” They yell excitedly, shouting over the music and the rowdy crowd surrounding them.

“There’s the little monster,” he greets, his tone affectionate even though the words are teasing. 

“No, no, I’ve been good tonight, I can almost remember how many drinks I’ve had,” they share this news like it’s some great feat, but their words are only slightly slurred, so they definitely had more self-control than Damien had expected.

“Almost remember? How many do you almost remember?”

“See, it’s ‘almost’ because I can’t figure out the math of how many drinks that stein held. Technically I’ve only had nine drinks, but I’m pretty sure the last one should count for at least five, so I’m, like, almost mostly sure of how many drinks I’ve had, except I can’t add,”

Damien would be concerned, but his friend could barely add five and eight when sober, so that wasn’t actually a sign of their mental state. He takes a long sip of his own drink, he wasn’t huge on getting wasted, so he was used to being soberer than everyone around him. He only really let loose with his friends back home, and on a rare occasion when he stayed with Y/N and they would stay up all hours nursing a few bottles of wine. Y/N drags Damien with them to mingle with their classmates, the conversation wrapping itself in circles to avoid mentioning their classes. No one wanted to think of school during these parties, but it was more than a little awkward when most of what the students had in common was their classes. Damien only had two drinks, and Y/N only had a few sips of Damien’s drinks, deciding to take it easy for the rest of the evening.

The party was enjoyable and lasted for hours until the host started asking guests to clear out, so they had time to sleep off their hangover the next morning before needing to do more homework. Damien was more than ready to leave, but Y/N wasn’t quite prepared for the party to end and began whining at Damien as he guided them out of the house.

“Why are you always bossing me around like this, I don’t wanna leave yet!” They whine as Damien drags them out of the house, heading towards the student apartments they live in. Damien’s roommate is out for the weekend, so he plans to bring Y/N to his apartment, so he can keep an eye on them.

“The host wanted us to leave, be mad at him,” 

“God, you’re acting like my dad! Always stopping me from having fun,” Y/N drops their full weight on Damien, almost knocking him over as he tries to convince them to keep going to the apartments.

“Come on, let’s just go home and get some rest,”

“What are you gonna do, dad, punish me?” Damien’s face burns as his friend stops and sticks their ass out towards him. “You may spank it,” they pause dramatically as they lift a single finger, “Once.”

Damien groans at his friend’s antics, “Seriously, knock it off, let’s just get back to the apartment,”

His friend refuses, not moving from their ridiculous position. “Since you wanna be my daddy, you’ll have to punish me,”

“Y/N that’s enough,”

“I’m not going anywhere till you fulfill your role as my father figure,” Damien sighs deeply, knowing his friend is a force to be reckoned with in terms of stubbornness. Especially when they’re fueled by alcohol and acting out like this.

“Promise you’ll drop this dumb act and come back to the apartment,”

“I promise!” They sing. Knowing he’s entirely defeated by his friend’s stubborn nature, completely unable to bear the sight of them wiggling their ass at him any longer, he winds his hand back and delivers a light slap on his friend’s ass. True to their word, they stand up and start heading towards the apartment, even as they complain, “That was so lame! All that build-up and I bet you didn’t even leave a mark,”

“What, you wanted me to?” Damien deadpans.

“No! I just thought you were annoyed enough to hit me for real,” Damien swears he sees a blush dusting his friend’s cheeks, but the lighting is too dim for him to tell.

“I’m not hot-headed like you, friend. Pick up the pace, you really need to sleep this off,” Damien is pleased to not need to endure another clash of will, they reach the apartment in good time, and his friend doesn’t complain a single time while Damien helps them get to bed.

He tried his best to act unbothered, but Damien was grateful the next morning when his friend seemed to have forgotten the entire night. He wasn’t sure he could handle them asking for punishment again.

And his friend was grateful that Damien didn’t seem to recall the spanking incident the next morning. They weren’t sure they could deal with the knowledge that their friend and crush had a memory of them asking to be spanked while walking home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halloween as teenagers

“Will. What the hell is this place? I thought you said we were doing something cool for Halloween,” William and Damien both sighed as Mark started complaining, even if Damien was confused by Will’s plans too. Mark was just prone to complaining about everything. 

“This is the cool thing we’re doing for Halloween! This place is totally haunted, and people say that all sorts of supernatural creatures come here on Halloween,” Will wags his fingers, adding a spooky sounding “woooo” to emphasize the scariness. Mark shook his head, and Damien frowned. 

“Will, I told you I didn’t want to do anything scary this year. Why aren’t we just trick or treating?” Damien wasn’t fond of scary things, in all honesty. 

“We were banned in our neighborhood because of the pranks two years ago, and we’re banned in your neighborhood because Celine said she didn’t want to be banned from trick or treating in her own neighborhood. So, nowhere to trick or treat, that means we get to investigate dumb urban legends,” Will explains with exasperation. 

“Yeah, don’t be a buzzkill, Damien!” Mark adds as he takes his backpack off, pulling out the small tent that Will had packed.

“You can’t say that when you were the first person to complain!” Damien throws back. 

“Come on, let’s just set the tent up and build a fire, then we can actually have some fun,” The other two boys sigh, but they obey Will and start setting up their camp. It takes almost an hour, with William being the only one with any experience in setting up camps. He has to supervise all of Mark and Damien’s handiwork or risk the tent falling apart in seconds. It takes until sunset, but the camp was finally set up, a space cleared and rocks stacked so the fire couldn’t spread. Will built a fire as Mark and Damien laid the sleeping bags out in the tent and pulled out the snacks Will had packed. He had the fire going in no time, which was fortunate since the sun was nearly gone, and natural light was close to none. Each boy lays a coat on the ground to sit on, huddled close to the warm fire while opening their snacks.

“So… we telling ghost stories or what?” Mark asked, his grin ominous in the dim light from the fire.

“What about the story of that house?” Damien suggested though he looked wary. Probably a part of him thought knowing the story would help him be less afraid, but also unwilling to learn anything that would make him jumpier. 

“Oh, now that’s a good idea,” William exclaims before launching into his tale, “People say that this home was owned by a prolific family, made of some of the wealthiest and best-known people to ever live in this town. Actors, politicians, military heroes, the works. But, all the wealth and fame went to their heads, lead some of them to get involved in shady business. People say that they became involved in the occult, working with demons and ghouls and anything they could summon. Eventually, that set up had to go wrong, and the demons began manipulating a member of the home. In due time, he killed everyone in the home, his wife, in-laws, brother, even the staff who worked for him. The demons killed him, and ever since, the home has belonged to beings from another world. And, on the spookiest day of the year, they have a party to celebrate the anniversary of the brutal murders, inviting all supernatural beings to join in the fun. Mortals must beware, or risk that they get caught up in the demonic going-on, and become the next victims to the demons’ games,” 

The other two sat in silent shock as William finished his story, staring at him blankly.

“Dude,” Mark starts, jaw dropped, “Where the fuck did you come up with that?” 

“Come on, Will, you think we’re going to believe that? If it had really happened, everyone would have known about it, it’s not like the house is that old,” Damien’s voice is shaking, even as he tries to show that he isn’t bothered by the story. 

“You don’t need to believe it, but it’s true,” Will smiles and puts his hands up in a position of surrender.

“Whatever, I can come up with a way better story than that one! Listen to this one,” Mark launches into his own ghost story, and they continue exchanging tales until the woods are silent in the dead of night. They decided to wrap up and go to bed, ensuring that the fire is entirely out before slipping into the tent and quickly falling asleep.

Until a loud _crack_ startles all three awake.

Damien is the first to speak, quietly whispering, “Did you guys hear that?” 

“It’s probably just an animal,” Will whispers back, but he presses closer to Damien anyways. 

Another sound, closer, causes all of them to jump.

“Shut up! It’s getting closer,” Mark hisses.

“You’re the only one still talking,” Will says back, but flinches when they hear a low growl outside of the tent. 

“What do we do?” Damien seems to be panicking slightly, which is fair when there appears to be a vicious predator approaching them. 

“Shouldn’t we get out of here?” Mark asks, clinging onto Damien’s shoulder.

“Probably a good idea,” Damien answers, slowly rising to unzip the tent door. He pears out the door and steps out when he doesn’t see anything. The others follow, slowly creeping around the fire pit.

“Wait, what about our stuff?” Will pauses to ask, his voice breaking the oppressive silence surrounding them. 

Suddenly, a snarl comes from near their tent, causing the boys to scream and start running through the dark woods. 

“You just _had_ to insist we go camping by the creepy house on Halloween, _didn’t you_?” Mark snaps at Will as they run, voice dripping with sarcasm even as he gasps for breath.

“It’s Halloween, it’s supposed to be scary!” Will defends himself.

“_Not this scary!_” Damien shrieks, his annoyance, and anger bubbling over into his outburst. He screams again as something grabs his arm, stopping him and the others in their tracks as he flails and falls back. His scream trails off as he processes the person who had grabbed him. 

“Celine, what the hell are you doing out here?” he demands, as his sister doubles over with laughter. Damien turns as Will joins in, groaning as he realizes what the night had been about.

“Really, guys, what kind of prank is this? I think you almost caused Damien to have a heart attack,” Mark says, as though he isn’t gasping to calm down his own heart.

“I can’t take any credit, this is all Celine’s grand idea,” William gestures towards the girl in question, who is still laughing at the reactions of her brother and friend. 

“Celine, really,” Damien groans as he drags himself to his feet.

“Sorry, little brother, you two are too easy to trick, I can’t pass it up when there’s a good opportunity,” Celine smiles, offering Damien a hand to steady himself. 

“Happy Halloween,” William says, clapping Damien and Mark on the back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: The big issue is that she scares me. Probably with good reason.

“There’s my brother-in-law to be!” Damien greets Mark happily. It’s their first time seeing each other since the engagement, so Damien is eager to congratulate his friend. Everyone had seen the engagement coming from miles away, but that didn’t kill the excitement Damien felt to know his sister would be marrying one of his closest friends.

“Oh, Damien, glad to see you,” Mark replies, his smile tense. Though the engagement has been a long time coming, it still feels new and a bit frightening. Mark loves Celine, truly, but a wife is much different than a lover. Celine was strong-willed, independent, qualities that Mark admired, but also qualities that could get intimidating.

“Is everything alright? You seem tense,” Damien is Mark’s most genuine friend, surely he would be the one to speak to about his feelings?

“Can I be honest with you?” Damien looks confused, but nods and Mark continues, “I’ve just felt a bit weird about the engagement. I love Celine, but, the big issue is that she scares me, probably with good reason,”

Damien’s brow furrows slightly, “As your friend, I want to comfort you and figure out what’s wrong, but as Celine’s brother, I want to punch you for calling my sister scary. So, explain yourself so that I’m not interpreting you the wrong way,”

“I don’t mean that she’s scary! She’s just beautiful, strong-willed, independent, and so much better than I am. I think I’m scared I’m not going to be good enough for her,” That wasn’t the whole truth. The entire truth was he was scared of Celine testing the waters, pushing against him once they were wed. She never seemed one to desire to settle down and becoming a mother. But Mark couldn’t tell her brother that. Even Damien would smack him for implying that while Celine was a good woman, she would be a bad wife.

“If anyone deserves her, it’s a man like you. Your will can match her's plenty, but you two have been together long enough that you know how to work together. And you can provide a good home and a good life for her. If you weren’t good enough by Celine’s standards, you wouldn’t have her,” 

Mark forces out a laugh at the last statement, as that was certainly true. Even with Damien’s reassurances, Mark couldn’t help but feel a pit in his stomach, as if things weren’t going to turn out as well as he hoped.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: “If god had wanted you to live he would not have created me” “I am the monument to all your sins”

Dark had been waiting for this day for a very long time. Not waiting- planning, setting it up, ensuring that he would get this chance. He didn’t want to do anything drastic today. This wasn’t a finale, maybe not even a footnote, but it was enough. It would get attention for him. And there was nothing Dark treasured more than taking attention away from Mark. So, he had the camera set up, rolling, the battery fully charged (something Mark was prone to messing up), and he had the YouTuber himself present, sort of. He was in a void right now, while Dark finished preparations. 

How long had it been since Dark started thinking of himself using the fans’ name for him? Probably around the same time he had gotten used to referring to William as Wilford, when he had gotten used to the other egos calling him a name he hadn’t even known. Dark sighed, knowing he didn’t have the time to reminisce. He only had a limited time to spend with Mark, after all, and he would use every second to his advantage. So, he focused, and brought the man out of the void, watching with cold disinterest as the loudmouth fell to the ground out of nowhere. 

Dark regarded his former friend with distaste while he waited for Mark to gather his bearings, and stop screaming. 

“Man, what the hell?” His voice was shrill, high pitched with shock and anger. 

“I know you’ve always been one for theatrics, but perhaps you could tone down the drama for five minutes,”

“Drama is what brought me my fame, you know that,” Not that Mark’s normal voice, an almost sing-song tenor, wasn’t dramatic, but it felt less fake than the modernized “Markiplier” voice. “So, what do you have planned this time? Gonna tie me up, torture me, kill me? Prove me right?”

“You’ve never been right about a goddamned thing, Mark. And you know damn well you aren’t the hero of this story,”

“If God didn’t want me to be the hero, he wouldn’t have made me perfect for the part-”

“If God had wanted you to live, he would not have created me.” Dark had rehearsed that one, but couldn’t believe Mark had given him such a good lead-in. He didn’t even go with religious motifs most of the time, Dark must’ve stored up some good luck for that moment.

“So, you _are_ going to kill me? What, steal my life and my channel? I thought you were better than that,”

“Did I say that was my plan? That sounded like some bad idea you would come up with. My plan will hurt you a lot worse than death. It’s what you deserve, old friend.” The ringing in the room was unbearable, Dark knew his shell was cracking. He genuinely couldn’t stand Mark; he was only fun to toy with in short bursts because of how annoying he got.

“Mark, I am the monument to your sins. As long as I stand, and I intend to do so for a very long time, then you will never be out of my shadow,” Another planned line, one hell of a mic drop if Dark would say so himself. And, say so he did as he opened the void, shooting Mark back to his recording room. 

Mark would be stewing about this video for _months_. 

And Dark was looking forward to it.


End file.
